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The Parallels
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TITLE (EDIT)
The Parallels
DESCRIPTION
-
[1,247 words]
AUTHOR
Jason Richard Mercer
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
-
[December 2002]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1)
Violet Glowing (Short Stories) The prelude to a story about an emotionally drained nymphomaniac with the soul of an angel. (I guess) [594 words]
The Parallels
Jason Richard Mercer




I fall asleep in his arms, safe and sound. If this is the last night of my life, I could be perfectly content with that.
When I wake up the next morning and open my eyes, the first thing I see are his, gazing back into mine. The candles have all burnt down and the sun is seeping through the blinds covering my window. I smile at seeing his face and pull him closer to kiss me.
“This is all so beautiful, how... did you do all this? How long did it take you?” I ask.
“You thought I forgot your birthday, didn’t you?”
“I was beginning to. Yeah, yeah I did, but...”
“It took about forever to get all the candles set up, and the Christmas lights. Then I had to pull apart two dozen roses, I was just hoping you wouldn’t come home early.”
“This is all so beautiful,” I tell him.
We spend most of the day in bed, watching t.v. and laughing, indulging ourselves in such pleasures as chocolate candies and glasses of champagne. I get up to go to the bathroom, brushing the rose petals off the back of my legs. I bet he’s watching me.

***
He hates girls with belly rings y’know. Personally, I think they’re kinda tacky too. If you’ve got a nice stomach, it just takes away from the cute little hole there. Piercings overall are just way too trendy. It’s like everybody and their mom has a hoop or a barbell somewhere. I don’t even wear earrings. Not since I was like twelve. I doubt I could even get one in now, but I don’t care to try. Whatever. Who cares right?
Anywho, he took me out to dinner tonight, since well, you know about last night *wink wink*. He takes me to this fancy French restaurant that I can’t pronounce the name of and keeps making fun of me as I try to get it right. Le something or other, I can’t remember. Makes me wish I had taken French. Good thing they have menus in English, otherwise I’d be screwed!
I don’t know shit about French cuisine, but the food is fantastic. He feeds me bits from his own plate. The place is beau-ti-ful.
“So do you like it?” he asks.
“I love it!” I tell him, “How are you affording all this? I mean between dinner, and the roses and the candles...”
Before I can finish, he shoves another piece of food into my mouth.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s all worth it, cause it’s for you,” he says.
“You really know how to make a girl feel special,” I tell him.
“Only if they’re as special as you,” he replies.
It’s about five degrees outside when we leave. He wraps his coat around me and rushes me to the car. Yeah, can you believe it? He actually drove this time. We get in the car and blast the heat. I ask him if the band’s found a new drummer yet. He says they haven’t, but hopefully they will sooner than later. We just sit there and talk awhile.
“What would you have done if I did that for you?” I ask, referring to last night.
“Probably woulda laughed.”
“You jerk!” I joke, lightly punching him on the arm.
“Nah, I woulda felt the same way you did.”
“How do you know how I felt?”
“Your eyes,” he tells me. “I could see it in your eyes.”
I move closer to him and put my head on his shoulder. I can smell his cologne. It’s not that tacky shit you get from the samples in magazines, it’s just...well I can’t explain it.
We drive back to my house, hardly saying a word.
I look out at the sky above. Hundreds of stars shine in the black night. The full moon is glowing. I begin to wonder. I wonder if somewhere out there in space there exists a parallel universe with another Devon and another Christian. I wonder what we’re like in that other world. Are we the opposite of everything we are in this world? Is the parallel Christian a cold, uncaring, unloving, ugly being? Is the parallel Devon evil and sadistic?
I ask myself too many questions.
I think about asking Christian these things, but stop myself; he’ll just think I’m being weird. So I stare out the window and drift in wonder. Maybe they’re out there and maybe they’re the same as us, but just a bit different, just enough. And maybe the parallel Devon is wondering the same thing as me...at this moment.

***

Back at my place, he’s lying on my bed. I’d like for him to spend the night(every night as a matter of fact), but don’t think he will do so. I’d like for him to live with me. All I have to do is ask him, and I think I just might. He’s here all the time anyway, and I know he’d say yes. It’s a big step, but I could fall asleep in his arms every night instead of having to go to bed alone.
I’m in the bathroom with the door open, brushing my teeth. I can see him reflected in the mirror, lying there watching whatever’s on the t.v., probably some bad rerun or something. A thousand thoughts of him are running through my head. I think of all the things he’s done for me over the past two years, of all the times he’s been there. I know he loves me, he doesn’t have to tell me, even though he constantly reassures me. Like he told me earlier, he could tell how I felt because it’s in my eyes. I too, can tell how he feels by starring into his beautiful, sleepy bedroom eyes.
I think again of last night, and the rose petals decorating my bed. How luxurious and sensual it all was. Am I as good to him as he is to me? I hope so, but no one’s ever been this good to me. I am absolutely in love. I would marry him tomorrow. I honestly and truly would. As a matter of fact, I’d do it tonight, right now if he asked me.
I can picture it...
It would be in a quaint little parlor or something with just the two of us and the minister there, and maybe his wife who assists him. Then he’d pronounce us husband and wife. The wife(his wife), would be full of smiles and tell me how beautiful I look, and how lucky we are to have each other, and I would graciously thank her about a hundred times. All the while, Christian would be talking to the minister, shaking his hand and being congratulated. We’d make our way off onto some wonderful, but not overly elaborate honeymoon as they bid us farewell and many happy years together, and we’d leave in love and smiling.
Years later, we’d still be so in love, and we’d start a family, and support each other through all the shit. We’d have beautiful babies and take them for walks in the park. They’d turn into toddlers, then move on to little league baseball, or ballet lessons or whatever. Then, as they grew older and have gone off to college, or off to work to start their new lives, Christian and I would still be here, still be together, and still be so in love.
All this is running through my head in such few minutes. I look back at his reflection in the mirror and smile.
*sigh* I am so happy!

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2002 Jason Richard Mercer
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
December 2002
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
10142
 

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